


Clarify Our Love

by vyrantiumblack



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyrantiumblack/pseuds/vyrantiumblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A study in Dorian and Trevelyan. It took them both a long time to get to where they are and this is just snapshots of the long road. Minor Dorian (nothing explicit) at the beginning, the rest takes place when the men are much older.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clarify Our Love

**Author's Note:**

> Like the first work I posted this too is unedited by a beta. I edited, however I more than likely missed things.

Elan Trevelyan never holds out hope that he will find a great love. Fairy tale stories. The only thing he truly wants is to be happy and have fun. All the seriousness that comes with marriage can wait. His parents don't care about his needs though. He is the fourth child and he will go into the Chantry, marry some chaste young woman, and live a quiet, happy life. 

The young woman that Elan's parents have picked for him is not his first choice in spouse. She isn't even the right gender. Sure she is pretty with her long black hair, dark skin and wide set hazel eyes that shine when she smiles. Her brother is more to Elan's liking and he makes it known in the library behind a stack of history tomes later that evening when everyone else is asleep. He makes it known with lips, tongue, fingers, and teeth. He is sure the other boy will go squealing to everyone about what they have done, however he keeps his mouth shut.

Elan's parents are not stupid.

"You seem to take very little interest in your legacy," his mother remarks over dinner one night. What she means to say is the Trevelyan legacy. Elan has three other siblings. Two of whom are married with children. He doesn't see the need for this conversation. 

So he simply looks up from his chicken and smiles. He knows without saying another word that they know the truth. He cares little if they accept it. 

They make it clear they don't. Elan's told to either join the Templars or keep his thoughts on familial matters. Love affairs are out of the question. Especially if they're only going to be with men. Elan finds this laughable and vows to distance himself from his parents. 

~~~~~~

Dorian is not going to marry Livia. He tells himself this when he first kisses another boy.  
Dark skin made darker by time in the sun, even darker eyes and lips as soft as the silk he favors for his robes. Gaius is his name. Born into noble house Bassanius and betrothed to some girl who isn't going to get the best of him. These heated kisses were going to be cool and chaste if she even got to taste them. Dorian knew this as Gaius' hands grip his hips tightly and his mouth hungrily searches his own. No, the poor girl will end up with something akin to an iceberg. A handsome iceberg, though. 

"I bet you taste like honey," Gaius purrs in his ear. Dorian's breathing hitches and he has to stop himself from moaning so he won't wake up his parents or the slaves. 

Gaius kisses like he is a master of the art. Dorian melts against the 17-year-old. He knows Gaius worries about "corrupting an impressionable young man". Dorian reassures him that fourteen is not too young and he isn't impressionable. 

Dorian truly is young and impressionable. Young and already as handsome as all of the men in the Pavus line. Gaius tells Dorian that he's going to have him and he's going to have him every way imaginable. These words cause Dorian's world to spin and his body to tingle. 

At a soiree thrown by some Magister that Dorian does not care about he meets his betrothed. Livia Heranthinos is the kind of woman that many Tevene men would fall all over themselves for. Dorian fails to be impressed. She is lovely without a doubt just not his type and she knows it in the way he avoids her coquettish glances. She tries the entire evening to speak with him and flirt with him. All of her advances are met with an ironclad defense and disinterested glances at fingernails. When she goes to kiss him on a whim, he excuses himself. Gaius is waiting for him near the ballroom. They sneak off as soon as they are able. 

Halward learns of his coupling with Gaius and immediately calls for an end to it. His calmness on the matter unnerves Dorian. He informs Dorian that he will marry and he will keep this, keep what he truly is a secret. If he does not then he will take desperate measures. Dorian dares not think what those desperate measures would be. He learns though when his father catches him with Aurelius, a young man he's brought home from one of the many taverns he frequents. He's grateful that none of them care that he's only 15. He's also grateful that Aurelius doesn't either.

They are in a tangle of limbs and sheets. Dorian is spent and exhausted, his body lazily thrown across his lovers bronze form and he is trailing circles on his torso. Aurelius is running his fingers up and down Dorian's back, whispering some love poem to him that Dorian doesn't even bother to listen to. They fall asleep like this.

In the morning, Dorian is vaguely aware of the door to his quarters being opened and seeing his father framed by the doorway. He believes at the time that he imagines the look of disappointment on his face. In the library he learns that he didn't imagine it and the quiet rage is so much worse than yelling. He wants to crawl into a hole and die. His mother's eyes are on him and he feels her shame. He imagines that she's wondering what she did wrong. 

"There is a blood magic ritual," his father begins," it will possibly fix this."

Dorian's eyes widen. "Blood magic? You want to use blood magic on me? I thought you said to never use blood magic. Didn't you tell me that it was wrong?"

"It's the only way to fix you."

"Fix me? There is nothing wrong with me!"

His mother speaks slowly, yet Dorian can feel her wanting to lash out, "You are our heir. You are the scion of House Pavus, Dorian. You will marry and you will provide-"

"No. No, I won't. You can't make me."

Halward speaks when words fail Octavia. "If we perform this ritual then you will marry Livia and you will not defy us."

And Dorian's heart breaks. Everything he is shames his parents to the point they consider this avenue. Blood magic. The resort of those too weak minded to find other ways. Dorian resolves to leave them as soon as he is able. First he has to erase things that once brought them pride. The long coal black hair that his mother loves so dearly he cuts and shaves away. The amulet his father bestowed upon him that is his birthright he sells even knowing he should not. His name is the only thing he will keep and that is a matter of extreme pride. Not devotion to his parents or so he tells himself.

 

On his own he has a little bit of money, he has his patronage with Alexius and a simple humble room in Alexius' home. Felix is a darling of a child, bringing him snacks as he works late into the night on theories and the magic sticks to him. He thanks the boy who returns his words with a kind smile and promises of more snacks. It is at this time he meets Rilienus, the son of one of Alexius' close friends.

Rilienus is a man unparalleled as far as Dorian is concerned. He is tall and his skin reminds Dorian so much of fine whiskey. He makes Dorian's knees weak and Dorian feels the fool for thinking he can even ask this man for anything. Rilienus is oblivious to the back and forth going on in Dorian's head. Doubts, so many doubts. Dorian keeps his feelings to himself. There is no place for love between two men. Not in Tevinter. Never in Tevinter. 

~~~~~~~

A string of lovers left behind with semi-broken hearts and wishes that he would just settle with one of them, Elan moves on. The Inquisition makes him focus, makes him grow up. He doesn't deny himself the casual flirtations with Iron Bull or even straight-laced Cullen. It isn't until he stares at Dorian covered in blood and gore, his black hair perfect even after the rigorous battle they have just finished, that he starts thinking about his future and about what it truly means to love.

Flirtation starts out slowly, painfully so if anyone were to ask Elan or Dorian. Neither sure this is going to go where they want it to. Neither sure this is what the other truly wants. Two men stumbling towards love. Something both of them want. 

When it dawns on Elan that he adores Dorian, they are standing on the shore of the Waking Sea. Dorian has his back to the crashing waves, seasickness getting the better of him. He is muttering to himself while Iron Bull chuckles at his misfortune. Elan feels sorry for dragging him out here. It is selfish desire to want Dorian so close. It's selfish desire that causes the monster that is jealousy to stir in his belly when Iron Bull brushes a piece of Dorian's slick black hair back from his forehead. 

Dorian realizes the extent of his feelings for the Inquisitor when he sees him stand at the edge of a campfire in the Hissing Wastes. The moon is large and heavy above them. Stars scattering the sky like Elan's freckles that Dorian notices every time they are close to one another. He watches the other man sharpen one of his daggers, an obsidian blade with silk brocade wrapped around the handle. The brocade is the same that Dorian wears. He wonders if it's coincidence, however he knows it's not. Not when their eyes meet across the fire and Elan quickly looks back down at his blade. 

"I want to love you, yet I can't. I can't hope for more and then be let down again. Not again," Dorian thinks to himself as he polishes his staff. Not again. 

Again. He remembers Rilienius. He remembers Gaius. He remembers every drunken fumble. Every kiss that he thought meant something, yet meant he was left even more broken. Dorian tries to push the thoughts back. This won't be like that. It can't be. The Inquisitor kisses him with meaning. This goes beyond sex into a territory that Dorian fears venturing into. It scares him to the point that he awakes in the tent with snakes wriggling around in his stomach. 

He glances over at Elan, who is sleeping soundly. He wants to touch the other man. Just brush a finger along his cheek and then over those full lips. Instead he stops himself. One kiss does not a relationship make. One kiss undoes his heart. 

Dorian lies back down and tries not to think about the man beside him. He fails miserably. 

~~~~~

The amulet is heavy in his hand. A reminder of his parents. The only good they gave him, he could say scathingly. Instead he stares at it. The Inquisitor's bright green eyes are on him. Those eyes were the first thing that Dorian noticed. They stand out against Elan's caramel dark skin and black hair. Dorian's breath always catches when he looks at him. 

"I know I thanked you for this," he says as he places it on the table. "I honestly never thought I'd see it again."

Elan smiles. "You said you'd find a way to get it back without my help. However, I wasn't going to let you wait years for something you wanted now."

"I still think that people will say I'm using you."

"Think what you will. I don't honestly care anymore. I like you."

It slips out of him so easy. Dorian wonders if it's genuine. He reprimands himself for that; there is nothing that the Inquisitor does that isn't genuine.

"I-I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?"

~~~~

Dorian decides that boldness will just have to do. This song and dance has grown old and he doesn't want to take just anyone to bed. He doesn't feel as strongly for anyone as he does Elan. The Inquisitor is all that occupies his mind on most days. 

He tells the Inquisitor that there's something in his quarters that will interest him. Dorian knows this will get him where he wants him and away from the prying eyes of the other occupants in the library. As he makes his way to Elan's chambers he chides himself. 

You're only going to end up hurt, you fool.  
You're making a big mistake.  
This is a bad idea, Dorian. Don't you have any dignity?

Dorian pushes the voices down as best he can. Treat this as any other fling. Do not hope for more. Maker, he hopes for more. 

The Inquisitor plays along with Dorian's banter. He all nerves beneath the spark and flash. A silent prayer is sent up to make sure Elan doesn't notice it. He doesn't let on if he does. The kiss is just as delicious as the first one.

~~~~

Dorian's heart is aflutter as he lies with his head pressed against Elan's chest.

"This is more, Dorian."

It is more when Dorian is taken from behind by Elan. It is more when Elan's mouth envelopes his cock and his hand is working him gently, teasing out the pleasure. It is so much more when he climaxes and instead of rolling over on to his side, Elan pulls him close in the dimly lit room. Elan holds him tightly and brushes sweat soaked strands back.

This is more. So many years between the two in which neither had hoped for anything beyond sex. Dorian places a kiss over Elan's heart. 

"Amatus, you have my heart." He murmurs and closes his eyes. If more feels like this he has no idea how he'll ever get up the desire to return to Tevinter. It feels so hard to part from this man who loves him so deeply, so completely.

Just a while longer.


End file.
